Oblitus Renovantes
by DestructiveMind
Summary: She had to do it, it was their last hope. But when she did, she didn't expect it to have such dire, dire consequences. Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger. Warning: Adult and dark themes. (Then again, Riddle's involved, who wouldn't expect this? ;) )
1. Excitatio - Awakening

**She had to do it, it was their last hope. But when she did, she didn't expect it to have such dire, dire consequences.**

**Tom/Hermione. Warning: adult themes.**

* * *

** Excitatio - Awakening**

Hermione ran like never before, stepping on broken tree branches, feeling the dirty, mangled roots snag at her jeans.

She had to do it; she had to do it now. Otherwise, it would all be too late.

She ran and ran and ran like never before.

* * *

He was in some sort of room. It was incredibly familiar; he just knew he'd been here before, though he really couldn't place it. It was different from when he'd last seen it, and surprisingly, Tom couldn't remember _when_ he'd last seen it before. He knew he'd seen it somewhere, and it was rather startling because brilliant, intelligent Tom Riddle with his excellent memory most certainly did not _forget_ such simple things. It irked him that he did not remember, and it annoyed him because he had never experienced such… _inexperience_ before. He had never not known, not understood. Where had he seen this room before?

Then his eyes snapped open, and he looked around him, incredibly astonished to find himself face down on a table in the middle of the Hogwarts library. How odd. He certainly did not remember falling asleep here, most strangely, there were no books around him… it was as though he'd simply apparated to the library in the middle of his sleep. Though, Tom knew that was entirely ridiculous, apparition was impossible within Hogwarts ground, and as exceptionally talented as he was, he was rather sure that apparating whilst in the midst of sleep was beyond even _his_ power. To his horror, though, he thought of something worse, could he have been... sleep walking?

No, no, he did not do such drastic acts, even while sleeping. It was simple, he convinced himself, he had probably stayed all night here, and had simply fallen asleep out of the pure human issue that was tiredness. Someone had probably seen him, placed the books he was reading back in their places and disappeared instantly in fear of waking the perfect, handsome Tom Riddle from his calm, and tranquil sleep . Then again, what kind of fool would simply remove Tom Riddle's reading material from him as he slept? He'd have to recall what it was that he was reading, which annoyed him, especially since it seemed like his memory had weakened entirely within the last 24 hours.

Tom Riddle stood up, feeling an odd pain on his left calf. Strange, when had that appeared? Walking towards the front of the library, Tom noticed two things.

Firstly, there was some sort of creature lying face down on the carpeted floor dressed in what looked like black and grey filthy rags, with extremely bushy, brunette colored hair that reminded him too much of Hagrid.

He bent down on one knee and eyed the person warily; it was a girl. What was she doing just lying on the floor? Why was she dressed in rags? Who was she? He was sure he'd never seen such disastrous hair wandering about the Hogwarts grounds before.

He leaned a hand forward, ready to shake her awake when suddenly, there was a tremendously loud gasp and the girl awakened dramatically, arching her body upwards. Tom was surprised to find that she was holding her wand, as if she'd been fighting with it before collapsing asleep in the middle of the library.

To Tom's complete annoyance, she rather courageously pointed her wand at his throat, and spoke in a hurried frenzy, as if time was running out, "We've won, we've won. That's it, you can't hurt anyone anymore, not after all of that you've-"

The girl paused, then, looked at Tom's face as her eyes widened. Tom, perfectly calm and composed, did not react, merely raised an eyebrow and said, "Pardon me?"

"Oh, Godric," whispered the girl, standing up almost immediately, "No, no," she hissed, looking around her in pure and utter panic, muttered something about a 'room' and a 'potion,' then hurriedly glanced at Riddle before storming out of the library as though the devil was on her tail.

The second thing Tom noticed was that the date on the calendar had read September 20th, 1944.

Suddenly, he felt oddly uncomfortable. He was sure he'd already gone through this day before..

* * *

No, no, no! Hermione shrieked out loud and ran outside the library, and almost halted her steps to find that no one was outside. What on Earth? Where was everyone? Where was the war?

This was so, so unbelievably wrong. It should have worked! This should not have happened. He should have been younger! Not-not _her_ age.

Hermione nearly jumped when she felt a hand poke her shoulder; she whipped around so quickly she nearly lost her footing.

A tall, black haired boy with pointed features looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and a small smirk plastered on his face.

"Are you..." he began to say, but haltered momentarily upon looking at her ragged clothing. Hermione's breathing hitched at his intense stare. "Are you lost?" He asked, as if he hasn't just eyed her up and down a moment ago.

"I- no, no I'm not lost," she spoke confidently, "I'm just curious as to who you are-"

"You don't know me?" Chuckled the boy, "You must be new," he deduced.

New? What was he talking about? "I'm sorry, but I don't think I..." Hermione trailed off, not sure what to say. The boy noticed her hesitation and stuck out his hand, trying to ease her obvious discomfort.

"I should've introduced myself earlier, then," he added with a cocky smile, "My name's Emperius. Emperius Lestrange."

* * *

Riddle stormed out of the library in a clearly terrible mood. How could he possibly fall asleep in the library! And who was that filthy girl that bloody dared put a wand to his throat? How dare she!

There was one thing he knew and that was that the rest of Hogwarts would be arriving tomorrow, save for the few that returned a few days earlier, including Emperius and Abraxas. Thankfully those fools would at least have the decency not to annoy him like everything else seemed to do at the moment. He was walking towards the dungeons when he heard a familiar voice.

Riddle stopped dead in his tracks and hid unnoticed within an alcove, peering to see the all too familiar sight of Emperius and - unexpectedly - the crazy haired girl he'd encountered earlier. Naturally curious, he listened to their conversation.

"My name's Emperius. Emperius Lestrange."

Riddle did not raise an eyebrow at his follower's clearly pompous tone of voice; how completely obvious, though entirely un-amusing.

What really was amusing, however, was the look on the girl's face, eyes wide, mouth agape as if she'd just been slapped across the face upon hearing Lestrange introduce himself. He knew many a girl that found Lestrange undeniably attractive, though surely, not one girl had stared at Lestrange like _this _before.

Then, with all confidence, she said. "What's the date?"

Lestrange stared at her, baffled by her odd question. How could she not know the date when the first day of Hogwarts was tomorrow?

Riddle heard him mutter, "September 20th."

The girl continued to stare, "...and the year?"

Now, Riddle was entirely intrigued, who could not know what year it was?

"1944," Lestrange said.

The girl seemed so stricken she didn't move a single muscle, then, as though nothing was wrong, she smiled and said, "Oh! Silly me… I better get going, then, Lestrange, was it? Nice meeting you," and ever so quickly the girl whipped around and walked hurriedly away in the other direction.

Riddle licked his lips in thought. This day could not get any stranger.

He took a few steps forward and said, "Lestrange."

The boy whipped around, eyes wide, and stammered something unintelligible. "R-Riddle!" he announced, seeming to collect himself, "Why are you-" Lestrange paused at Riddle's stare. One does not ask Riddle questions.

"Did you want to say something to me, Lestrange?"

"I-I… no…"

"No? Is that it?"

"No, sir." Lestrange lowered his gaze.

"Emperius, that girl you were just speaking to, who was she?"

Lestrange seemed taken aback by Tom's sudden question, though answered him almost instantly, "I don't know, sir, she didn't tell me her name."

"Well then Lestrange, I guess you'll have to make up for your lack of knowledge now, won't you? I want you to find out everything you can about her, as quickly as possible."

"I- yes, sir."

"Very well." And without another word, Riddle turned the other way and walked ahead, leaving a baffled Emperius behind.

* * *

Hermione walked so quickly she bumped into someone and quite hastily, steadied herself and looked upwards to see the last person she'd expected to see, though with utter relief, she found herself whispering, "Professor Dumbledore!"

He smiled, and whispered, "And you must be Miss Granger, am I right?"

Hermioned doubled back. How on Earth did he know her name? Oh, Godric, this was worse than she thought! He _knew her name_. The timeline must surely be altered now! Oh Lord, what was she to _do?_

"Please," Dumbledore, "don't look so alarmed, Miss Granger… I was expecting you."

"H-how…? How did you-" Hermione began to say, but she just didn't know _what _she could say. How could he have expected her? Who could have possibly told her about her arrival here, especially since it was an entire accident? How much did he know? How could she ask him _what _he knew without telling him just as much?

"Miss Granger, I beg you worry not. I just want you to know that I know of your circumstances – please, do not fear. Do not worry, for I do not know a lot. Or much, at all. I'm afraid I cannot tell you how I know what I know, I just want you to be able to welcome Hogwarts as your new temporary home, yes, yes, don't look shocked, it's hard to believe, especially for me… but I know you're not from here, Miss Granger, and I am currently trying my best to help you, but until then, remaining at Hogwarts is your safest option."

Hermione tried to take this all in, she was so tired and this was all so bizarre, she found it difficult to speak, the only think she could say was "Yes, Professor, I understand… would it be alright for me to have the Gryffindor tower password? I'd like to rest until tomorrow, please, sir."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "Not Slytherin?"

"Excuse me?"

"I was told that putting you in Slytherin would be… best, for now."

"Told by whom?" if the shock wasn't evident on Hermione's face, it was clear by her voice.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but I cannot say. I'm afraid, this will have to do."

Hermione, still looking shocked, could do nothing more but sigh. At least she'd have a bed to sleep in tonight.

"Alright, Professor," she murmured, "May I have the password?"

"_Gladius cruentus."_

Hermione nodded, breathed heavily, and walked off.

* * *

Tom leaned on the wall, feeling the icy chill of the dungeon walls tease his spine. He _hated _waiting, especially for those that were beneath him. He did not know why Abraxas and Emperius were taking so long when all they had to do was evacuate their rooms and walk up the bloody common room stairs to stand before him. Slyly, he considered breaking their legs and have them climb up the stairs _then, _showing them that they had no excuses to be 11 minutes late to meeting him, especially when he'd been calmly lying down in his Head Boy dormitory, clearly enjoying his privacy as the Head Girl was yet to arrive, when Abraxas himself had knocked rather dramatically at his door, asking him to come to the hallway to the left of the dungeons in 10 minutes. Now, Riddle hated being ordered around as much as he hated waiting, but something in Abraxas' tone of voice actually made him feel that this may be slightly worth the bother. And so he had come here in no less than 3 minutes and waited 11 more to find that, in fact, neither Malfoy nor Lestrange had appeared.

He was about ready to curse the nearest thing – ghost, human or animal– to appear before him when suddenly; he heard footsteps coming his way.

The footsteps turned around the corner and he saw that same bushy, haired girl halt her steps upon sighting him.

She stared at him like she'd just seen a ghost.

Riddle did not falter, merely looked at her with a stare that made many girls weak at the knees. It slightly annoyed him that she did not react.

Then suddenly, a deathly scream sounded from the dungeon walls.

* * *

**Hello, guys! I hope you liked my first ever Tom-Hermione fanfic! Im so excited to write this :D Please read and review and tell me what you think of this so far! I know so much is left unanswered but that's why this story's genre is part Mystery ;) **

**The title of the story and of the chapters are in Latin and it was all through google translate so most would not be accurate, probably. Also, the Slytherin common room password is also in Latin, meaning "bloodied sword" and it actually has a meaning behind it so it will all be revealed soon :D!**


	2. Inopinatus - Unforeseen

**Inopinatus – Unforeseen**

Riddle, upon hearing the scream, raced towards the dungeons with a baffled Hermione close behind him. Tom was bothered; why was she following him? Generally, people tend to run in the _other_ direction upon hearing such tortured sounds...

Tom stepped in front of the door and began to say the password when he realized that he _did not know the password_.

_What the-_

"Gladius cruentus," the girl behind him whispered, and the dungeon door shifted open with its usual creaky, disturbed sound.

Riddle ignored her and walked right ahead. How was it she knew the password and he did not?

They walked in to find a rather peculiar and wholly unsettling sight before them: Abraxas holding his wand in his left hand, bent over and coughing up blood, while Lestrange, panicked and distressed, knelt by his side, muttering a few healing charms that seemed to do nothing.

"Lestrange," enunciated Riddle in a deep, feral tone, "what happened here?"

"I-I don't know!" Lestrange replied, glancing back and forth between Riddle and Hermione; if he was surprised to see them here together, he did not show it. "I came out and saw him pointing his wand at the wall, muttering s-some sort of... I don't know, I couldn't tell what it was, and then this, this happened-"

"What are you waiting for!" snapped the girl beside Riddle almost instantly, "He has to get to Madame Pomf- to the-the infirmary, right away!"

Riddle did not miss her hesitation, and determinedly stalked over to Abraxas' side, lifting him up by one arm. Lestrange did the same to the other.

Hermione rushed ahead of them to the infirmary, an unconscious Abraxs' leaving a trail of blood behind their way.

It wasn't until Abraxas was on the infirmary bed, a panicked Madam _Millford_ – Hermione consciously noted - tending to his scorched hand that Hermione finally realized her slip up.

She had begun to say Madam Pomfrey's name. And worse of all, she had _led the way_ to the infirmary when in fact; she shouldn't have known where it was at all.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid Hermione!_

She gulped, her fingers tingling in slight fear. She hoped that the current Head Boy had not noticed her mistakes, though, when she had glanced up, she realized that he had not just noticed, but he was now _interested. _He was staring so intently at her that she just had to look away; she couldn't bare such a stare. _What the hell is wrong with him? _Thought Hermione, _I know he's a disgustingly, evil excuse for a human being, but looking at me like he wants to _kill me _is_ _surely too much, even for him…_

"Something wrong?" he whispered all too calmly from next to her.

"Nothing at all," she replied, a bit too quickly.

"I'd say something was the matter," he said in a nauseatingly guiltless voice, "You know, as your Head Boy and being in your same house, you can come to me with any issues, Miss..."

"Hermione," She answered simply.

"I find it inappropriate to address a girl by her first name without knowing her first," Tom said, raising his eyebrow at her refusal to tell him her last name.

"And I find it inappropriate to ask for one's name without introducing themselves first," she countered.

Riddle very nearly looked shocked at her outburst, where did she get such courage from? This girl evidently did not know her place.

"Riddle," he very nearly growled, and Hermione was suddenly aware that he was right behind her, his voice dangerously close to her ear, "Tom Riddle."

"He should be alright in a few days," said the nurse, suddenly, eying Tom and Hermione warily, clearly put off by their sudden close proximity. This _was_ an old-fashioned time after all…

"It's nearly sundown, you should all head to your dormitories and get a good night's sleep... school does officially start tomorrow..." she added, trailing off.

"Yes," Tom said, "Of course Madame Millford, we'll be off right away. Please do tell us when Abraxas wakens," his voice was perfectly innocent, almost hypnotic to listen to.

Madame Millford nodded as Lestrange stood up a bit shakily_. Why is he so distressed?_ Hermione wondered, _Surely, being a follower of the Dark Lord meant he'd seen much worse before_…?

Lestrange walked on ahead, looking a bit disgruntled as he turned a corner, Hermione was about to follow him when suddenly she felt a strong grip on her arm. _What the-_

The thought breezed out of her mind as the hand pulled her rather roughly and pressed her back against the icy, cold wall with a sickeningly loud thud.

_"What are you doing?"_ Hermione spat.

Riddle places a finger to her lips and whispered something that Hermione couldn't make out. Suddenly, Riddle disappeared. Hermione realized he'd Disillusioned them.

Two voices were heard whispering down the corridor they were in, then. Hermione recognized one as Dumbledore and the other - from Dumbledore's addressing - as Headmaster Dippet. She couldn't make out what they were saying, mostly because she was too busy feeling outright revolted by Riddle close proximity. _Repulsive, uncivilized prat, _frowned Hermione, though she knew he could not see.

Once they had passed, Riddle ended the charm non-verbally and eyed her without speaking.

"Is there something you want?" she snapped at him, eyes narrowed in anger.

"Why so feisty?" He asked, sounding purely curious.

When she did not respond, he spoke again, "Is there something about me that bothers you?"

"Yes," she said all too assertively, "you're too close for my liking," and she placed both hands on his chest, pushed him off of her and sauntered off, not once even bothering to look back.

Riddle stared after, hands clenched into tight fists.

* * *

Heart beating fast and head spinning, Hermione rushed to the Slytherin common room, found her way to the girls' dormitory and found quite the astonishing sight on one of the beds. Her beaded bag with her Hogwarts trunk! This was unbelievable. _How is this even possible? _Hermione thought in pure shock, _This is just ... crazy. Where could this have come from? From _who?

She stalked over to the bed and picked up a letter she found near her new, sparkling clean Slytherin robes, opened it cautiously, heart beating anxiously as she read,

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know it would be unwise for me to address you by your real surname, and so I will here forth call you Miss Levesque. None of the Professors know of your predicament besides myself and Headmaster Dippet._

_The Professors all 'know' that your father is of French ancestry, your mother English and both whom have passed away; you were brought up with your aunts and uncles in France and have decided to attend Hogwarts for your 7th year in hopes of becoming more acquainted with the area, for soon you shall be seeking a job at the Ministry._

_As to how I know about your situation, and how I obtained your belongings, I cannot say, but all I can say is that I was requested to place you into Slytherin, best fitting I suppose, as there are no other girls in Slytherin 7th year._

_I do hope you sleep well tonight, I have included some money if you need it for whatever reason, Miss Granger, and I am trying my best to help you._

_Meanwhile, good night and sleep well, young one. A long day awaits ahead._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

Hermione read the whole letter more than once, feeling a bit queasy but slightly more reassured. She collapsed on the bed, without bothering to change or shower, she was sure she reeked of god knows what but yet, wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and perhaps, maybe find that this was all just a terrible nightmare that she'd yet to wake up from.

Sadly, she knew this was not to happen soon.

* * *

Riddle walked, or rather, stormed, through the 7th floor of the castle in unadulterated fury, and he did not even know why.

Actually, yes, yes, he did.

Firstly, who the hell was that girl, where did she come from, and what was she hiding?

Why the hell had he woken up in the middle of the library not remembering anything?

To make matters all the more suspicious, she had also been there too, and he couldn't forget what she'd said too him_ "You can't hurt anyone anymore,"_ - did she _know _about what him, Avery, Lestrange and the rest were up to? If so, _how?_

Who had blabbed their mouths to her? He would Cruciate the bloody limbs off of them.

Which led on to the next thing, why was he so incredibly frustrated? Yes, the situation was loathsome and simply put - _annoying_, yet Tom Riddle never lost his temper, he was always calm and rationale, despite whatever it was he was dealing with. And it rather annoyed him that at some point, he wanted to strangle the living daylights out of that crazy haired girl when he'd pressed her against the wall. He'd placed his finger to her lips, to silence her, to distract her before he _hurt _her, it was all too convenient that those fools Dumbledore and Dippet had walked past, otherwise he knew not what he would have done.

_Insane, _thought Tom, _am I insane? Even the brilliant succumb to insanity at times…_

What really worried him though was Abraxas. What had happened to hims? Lestrange's story seemed not to add up, and he looked too... _upset_, for it to be a mere accident. What had Abraxas wanted to tell him? Curse that stupid git.

Riddle punched the wall next to him, feeling strange and puzzled. He did not ever punch walls, certainly not random walls in his beloved school in the middle of the night - no matter how angry he was.

Then, with a hint of shock laced with amusement, he realized that it did not hurt. Not one bit, it was as though he'd acclaimed the power and anger and rage of over 50 men all in one night.

_What has happened to me? _Tom breathed, shut his eyes, and leaned his back against the cold and bitter wall.

* * *

Hermione had a very odd short dream that night - she dreamt of... a boy, a blonde boy. What was his name again? She was too disorientated to remember.

It was weird; she seemed to be chained up to something, voices passing by, snickering, laughing at her. She felt so exhausted, the dream nearly felt real. She was aching.

She wanted to kill herself.

And then she heard the boy's all too familiar sneer, _"Missed me, Granger?"  
_  
Her eyes snapped open and she was overwhelmed with the most disgustingly horrendous smell she could ever remember smelling. Then with a hint of self-mockery, she established, the smell was her.

This was revolting.

Hermione grabbed her trunk and pulled out fresh underwear along with a white, flimsy dressing gown to wear and her toiletries. Grabbing a towel, she headed off for the girls' bathroom. Hermione actually had a good look at herself once inside. What was this horrendous garbage bag that she had managed to find and wear?

It appeared to be some sort of robe, though graying with age. It may have been black before, maybe dark green.

There was a crest on one side... Hermione remembered this crest from... somewhere...

_Damn it_, she thought angrily, _why can't I remember anything?_

In a heap of fury, she marched right up to the shower stall and pulled at the golden tap. Nothing happened.  
_  
Are you kidding me!_

She grabbed her things and headed off to the nearest available bathroom, the Prefects' bathrooms; she knew no one was here anyway, and if they were, what kind of moronic idiotic would shower at 2 AM in the morning?

* * *

Riddle felt ghastly. He looked down at his robes, they were filthy and ragged and he needed nothing more than a hot bath.

He grabbed his belongings from his dormitory and headed off for the Prefects' bathrooms - he'd always preferred it there, anyway - in a hope to quench himself of this sudden feeling of disgust and self-revolt.

* * *

Hermione filled up the bath just the way she used to back at Hogwarts, feeling instantly calmer as the scent of honey and cinnamon wafted through the air. Feeling slightly better about herself, Hermione shrugged off her robes, her jeans, shirt and underwear, and slowly dipped a foot into the water. Eyes closed, feeling the hot water brush her tired feet, she realized that a hot bath really was the most wonderful solution to anything.

Just then, she heard a strange _pop_, but dismissed it as of being just the tricks of the running water.

Feeling satisfied with the temperature, Hermione lowered her naked body to the rest of the bath, eyed still closed, feeling absolutely calm and-

"You should be careful where you strip, Granger. Might accidentally flash someone," hissed a voice from in front of her and Hermione snapped her eyes open and when she registered just who was in front of her she screamed so loudly it would have put a Mandrake to shame.

"Oh, God," she hissed, eyes wide, disbelieving, "Oh god oh god oh god, what the hell, what the bloody hell, what on-"

"Granger, I-"

"-Earth is happening, this is just too crazy, there's no way-"

_"Granger-"  
_  
"-this has happened, oh my god, I'm crazy aren't I? Right? I'm going insa-"

"Bloody hell, Granger, will you _just listen-"_

_"Finite incantatum!"_

"_I'm not a fucking incantation!"_

"_Transferam alucinatio!"_

"Granger, I'm not a fucking hallucination, either! Now will you_ shut the hell up and listen to me-" _the boy's growl made Hermione stop. There were a few seconds of just breathing as she took in the sight of the boy who was in front of her in the big, round bath tub.

Seeing his robe-clad shoulders and his mud covered face up close made her realize just _what _she was wearing. Or rather, what she was _not _wearing. She instantly brought her arms forward to cover her chest, sinking lower into the water, feeling embarrassment heat up her face.

After a few more seconds of simply gazing into the boy's stormy, grey eyes, she whispered, disbelieving, "Malfoy? D-Draco?"

He smirked, "The one and only."

* * *

**Hello, there Draco :3**

**Thanks so much to all that reviews! I hope you liked this chapter! :D Transferam alucinatio is a spell I made up that translates to 'Remove Illusion' :) Poor Hermione, so confused and distressed. And what the hell is happening to Riddle? **

**Please do not get bored with the story, even if its so confusing! Everything will make sense soon! Please continue to read and review. Thank you all! :D**


	3. Foedus - Disgusting

**Foedus - Disgusting**

He smirked, "The one and only."

"Malfoy," Hermione muttered, "H-how? What happened?"

Draco sighed, "Look, Granger. I don't have much time... I just need you to know some things," he noticed she was fidgeting uncontrollably then, probably because of all the stress, so he placed a hand on her shaking shoulder.

She flinched and yelped, forcing his hand away and splashing water on his face.

"Dammit, Granger," Draco hissed, weaving his fingers through his sodden hair, "I was only trying to comfort you! Not that bloody desperate for a shag.."

"Granger..." Hermione murmured, more to herself than to Draco, "what happened to_ Mudblood_?"

"I-" Draco hesitated, then frowned, "you don't remember anything, do you?"

Hermione's eyes widened instantly, "So, you know!? You know what happened to me? Draco, _please_-"

"Sh, shh Granger," Draco grabbed her shoulders to steady her frantic movements, "I can't tell you all that I know, but I can clear things up. Ask me anything."

Hermione seemed thoughtful for a second.

"How much time are you here for?"

"Five more minutes."

"Who sent you?"

"No one."

"You came on your own will?"

"Yes, Granger, ask wisely, we're running out of time."

"How'd you get here?"

"Timeturner... obviously."

She glared. "How did I get here? How do I get out?"

"You have to recall that yourself. I'll help you get out when the time is right."

"Why are you helping me...?"

"Isn't it obvious? Because I'm head over heels for you, Hermione."

Pause._ "What?"_

"Merlin, Granger, you know I'm kidding. I'm helping you because o...f something. You'll know later, I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!"

"Okay, okay," Hermione sighed, "How can I help myself remember?"

Draco seemed thoughtful for a second. "Abraxas... he won't help you remember, but he'll help you find out what happened to you."

"He's in the infirmary; injured himself," Hermione said.

Draco chuckled, "Then enjoy your time here until he's out,"

"Anything else I should know? How's the war? What's going on?"

Draco seemed to tense, "The war is... halted. I- I can't explain. Your friends are safe, don't worry, and they... well, I can't say that they know of your predicament, but they... know you'll be back."

"Who knows of my predicament?"

"Currently alive: myself. Currently dead: Dumbledore."

"What _is_ my predicament? And how are you the only one that knows?"

"Granger, I already said I can't tell you,"

"Ugh!" Hermione screeched, splashing more water on Draco, "Malfoy, you're so frustrating!"

"And you're so ungrateful, Granger," he growled, "Be thankful I'm even here at all!"

"Fine," she hissed, "Thank you _ever so much,_ Malfoy. Anything else I should know?" she quirked her eyebrows.

"Yes, actually," Draco said in all seriousness, "Stay away from Riddle."

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes, "As if I'd wanna be near that insensitive, disgrace of a human being."

Draco smirked, "Just making sure,"

"Anything else, Malfoy?"

"No," he said, "any more questions?"

"Will you be back?"

Draco chuckled, eyes gleaming, "Never knew you'd get so attached to me, Granger."

Hermione flushed, "Shut up, Malfoy! I just don't want to be alone," she admitted.

He smiled faintly, "Don't worry your little white heart, Granger. I'll be back soon."

He stood up, water dripping off of his robes.

He flipped the Timeturner and he was gone.

* * *

Riddle knew he should've left immediately once he smelt the distinct aroma of honey and cinnamon wafting through the bathrooms. But he couldn't stop himself, he knew that the only other Prefect besides himself at Hogwarts right now was a Ravenclaw boy - Alexander Brown. There was another tub in there, and they were both men, Brown should not mind.

So Riddle stepped in, only to find himself face to back with a girl whose body was only clad in a short towel.

The girl didn't notice him, and merely proceeded to tie her hair in a wet, messy bun, the towel sinking lower down her wet, bare skin.

Riddle didn't know why - it wasn't as though he hadn't seen a sight like this before - but he found he could not look away.

Then he realized just who the girl was. It's_ her_. The same bushy, haired girl from today. How could she know the password to the Prefects' bathroom?

_"What the bloody hell are you doing!"_ screeched the girl, suddenly, whipping around, eyes wide.

Tom felt a bit angry. What was he doing? What was _she_ doing?

"Are you a Prefect?" he said cooly, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you pervert?" she said hotly, "At least look away!"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Riddle said, bored. "You didn't answer my question,"

"And I don't have to," she grabbed her wand, pointing it at him.

Tom raised an eyebrow._ How... amusing_.

"No need for a wand," he smirked. Oh, she looked so scared. He could have so much fun with this...

"There's always a need for a wand," she hissed.

Tom admitted he found the sight rather enticing, in all honestly. It wasn't everyday a girl picked a fight with him in nothing but a loosely tied towel.

As if hearing his thoughts, she held her towel with her right hand, wand in her left. Riddle saw her cheeks flush red.

"Are you going to leave or not?" she snapped.

He walked a few steps closer to her until he was only a couple feet away. He eyed a droplet of water as it slid down her cheek, down her collarbones, in between her breasts. His eyes lingered there a moment longer than was necessary, knowing it would make her all the more infuriated.

Suddenly, her hand had yanked his collar, forcing him to look at her.

"Riddle-"

"Hermione, was it?" he interrupted.

"It's Levesque, to you," she muttered under her breath. _"Leave."_

Did she just tell him what to do? "I would if I could, but your hand seems unable to leave my body," he smirked at her, "And I would if I wanted to, but I don't."

"I-" she stuttered, pulling her hand away from his collar. She didn't know what to say.

"That's better, isn't it?" he added. "You wouldn't like it if I pulled at your towel now, would you?" he glanced downwards, eying her towel. Hermione took a step back.

"Riddle, if you don't leave, I swear I will-"

"What?" he asked. "Tell me what you'll do to me," he demanded.

Hermione found she could not. Yes, what will Hermione do to the darkest wizard of all time?_ Stupid Hermione!_

"I have every right to be here as you," he said, relieving Hermione from having to answer his question, "don't I?"

She didn't respond.

He didn't like it. He edged closer to her. "Don't I, _Miss Levesque?_"

She glared, and he didn't like this either. Girls would cut off limbs to be in this position, and here she was, looking absolutely revolted to be near him.

"Why are you here?" she breathed, sounding almost paranoid.

What kind of question is that? Why _else_ would he be here? Did she really think that he had come here for _her_? And was she worried by that fact? If so, _why_? He had to find out; what was she hiding?

Riddle's innocent smile could've fooled her if she didn't know otherwise. He said, "Why, Miss Levesque, would I be here if I did not intend to bathe?"

Then, Hermione watched with a fleeting horror as he ever so expertly shrugged off his outer robes; they pooled around his ankles. Then, he reached a hand up to his tie, undid it, and let it land to the floor as well. All the while he did not break eye contact with Hermione. His hand reached for the button of his dress shirt, ready to undo it.

This was too much for her to bear. She grabbed her things, brushed past him, muttered,_ "Insufferable git,"_ and stormed out the door.

Despite how crazy it sounded, Riddle wished she'd stayed to watch the rest.

_Maybe I really am going insane..._

* * *

Hermione didn't care that she was only wearing a towel and potentially exposing herself to any onlookers. She just had to get away from that creep.

_Bloody exhibitionist pervert._

She held her towel tighter, hissed the Slytherin common room password under her breath and flew inside without a care in the world.

She dumped her old clothes onto the floor, muttered a quick repairing spell and watched them sparkle as though they were new.

_Good,_ she smiled inwardly,_ tattered clothing is not very nice._

She bent over to pick up her clothes when she heard a very soft whisper from behind her,_ "Fuck.."_

Hermione jumped up and whipped around, wand in her hand and ready to attack.

Then she noticed who it was and huffed, "Lestrange! What are you doing?"

"Me?" he raised an eyebrow and laughed, "Why I was merely coming down to sit here... what are you doing in just a towel?" his eyes darkened for a moment as he said that.

Hermione muttered a quick spell that transfigured her towel into something else. She didn't miss the look of pure sadness on Lestrange's face.

"Long story," she sighed, "your perverted friend won't mind his own business."

Lestrange cocked his to the side, confused, "But Abraxas is in the hospital wing."

"Not Abraxas," she clarified, "Riddle."

Lestrange looked terrified then, looking around him as if making sure no one was around.

"You don't just call Riddle a pervert, girl," he snapped.

"Making fun of your Dark Lord is too much of a no no, now is it?"

She realized what she'd said too late. She stared at Lestrange, he stared back.

Then, he edged closer to her and he was right in front of her. She could feel the warmth of his body radiating off of him. He smirked and whispered, "You should go to bed, darling," he chuckled, "And if you don't want to... you're always welcome to sleep in mine,"

Hermione backed up, suddenly, "Disgusting. All you Slytherins are disgusting,"

Lestrange laughed, "There must be a hint of disgusting in you too, darling, otherwise you wouldn't be here,"

Hermione ignored him, grabbed her things and left to her dormitory.

* * *

It was nearly 3 AM and Riddle could not sleep.

He didn't really try to sleep, to be fair. He was just lying in his bed, thinking, trying to understand, but failing at it.

He needed to discuss this with his followers. Tomorrow, he would schedule a meeting. Yes, that would clear things up.

He sat up in his bed, shut his eyes and focused on the palm of his left hand, thinking of the words "Tomorrow, 7pm, same place" and watched the words appear in red on his palm.

This was how they communicated. Riddle linked them all with an Empathy spell just for this purpose. It was a pretty useless spell, only good for communication. He chose the left hand in particular, knowing that no one could risk seeing this note appear on Abraxas' inner palm in the infirmary, for that was the hand that was bandaged.

Tomorrow would come a plan, and with that, would come his peace of mind.

* * *

Hermione lay in bed thinking of the very last thing she could remember.

She couldn't.

She couldn't pin point anything, just flashes and images. Her earliest memory was of her, Harry and Ron going out to hunt for Horcruxes.

When she woke up at the Library, and saw her predicament, she realized she must have used "the last resort" Dumbledore had told her about in 6th Year. But the so called "last resort" should not have worked that way.

Dumbledore had said to her that "if all else fails" and if ever given a chance, she should use this extremely dangerous potion.

What did she remember about that potion?

1) It took 11 months to brew.  
2) She remembered brewing it in the Room of Requirement.  
3) Once completed, one had to dip their wands in the potion and administer a spell on their victim.  
4) The spell was_ Oblitus Renovantes_, which translated to _Forget Renew_.  
5) The spell combined with the potion should change the physical state of the victim. As in, it should've made the victim either younger or older, depending on the attacker's will.

Hermione must have used it, right? And it must have gone completely wrong for her to be blasted back in time with an 18 year old Riddle. There was no other way for this to have happened.

Dumbledore had told her that the spell and potion only worked if one really intended it. But she did intend it, didn't she?

What other reason would have stopped her from administrating the spell as required?

And why was Draco involved? Why did he want her to get help from Abraxas?

If Dumbledore knew of 'Hermione Granger' in 1944, was that why he chose her to be the administrator of this spell back in her own time? Did he know this would happen?

So many questions unanswered, so little to go on.

Hermione shifted in her bed, feeling uneasy.

If she was trying to piece things together, was Riddle also doing the same?

How much did he remember?

Hermione shivered in her sleep, she wasn't sure it was all due to the biting wind wafting through the open window.

* * *

**Thank you all for the reviews! Please continue reviewing, it really does motivate me. I know things are still really unclear but it will all make sense soon! :')**


	4. Ordino - Sorting

**Ordino - Sorting**

All through the Sorting ceremony of the First Years and he would _not stop looking_ at her from his position at the end of the table near Lestrange, and two other boys whom she did not recognize. She'd sat comfortably as far away from him as she could muster without being too far away from the rest of the Seventh Years. _No need to act like a loner on your very 'first day,' Hermione, _she'd reprimanded herself.

Eventually, she learnt to ignore Riddle and concentrate on her meal.

"Hermione, right?"

Hermione jumped in her seat, her fork dropping and hitting the plate with a loud clatter.

"Gee," the voice snickered, "didn't mean to startle you!"

"I-it's quite alright," Hermione murmured, eying the person to her left. It was a girl in Sixth Year, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was stunning_. Could she be part Veela?_

"I'm Amanda Greengrass," smiled the girl, "How are you liking it at Hogwarts so far?"

Her smile seemed genuine, much to Hermione's surprise. _Maybe not all Slytherins are that bad, after all.  
_  
"You know," said Amanda, "a lot of girls would kill to be alone with those boys…"

At first, Hermione wasn't sure what _boys_ the girl was referring to, and then looking at who the girl was eying, she rolled her eyes, _Of course, it was _those _boys._ "I don't even see why," Hermione said, shrugging.

"They're absolutely gorgeous!" exclaimed Amanda as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "don't tell me you don't see it!"

Yes, yes she saw it. Riddle and his associates were far from ugly, but hell, she'd rather die than admit that out loud.

Amanda sighed, "I mean look at them... Avery, Malfoy. God, have you seen Riddle?"

Yes, she'd seen Riddle and she'd wanted to kill him.

"He's been looking at you the whole while, you know," whispered Amanda into Hermione's ear, "maybe he likes you?"

At that, Hermione burst out laughing so loudly it caught the attention of others at the table.

People eyed her strangely; a First Year who had just got sorted into Slytherin seemed to regret the decision and looked about ready to turn back and leave.

Avery looked at her from his position near Riddle, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing. Riddle did not react; his eyes were shut, as though concentrating.

"You must be joking," Hermione huffed, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he _swung the other way_."

Amanda laughed but did not argue any further. It wasn't every day a girl suggested Riddle was gay.

* * *

Tom Riddle was not amused. He'd been watching Levesque for the entire ceremony and she... didn't do anything.

She didn't interact with anyone, not even look at anyone, for that matter. To any other onlooker, Riddle knew this may not have seemed strange, but to him, it was definitely odd behavior.

Then he noticed a girl in Sixth Year begin to initiate conversation with her. _What's the girl's name?_ He was sure she was a Greengrass, though he could not remember anything else about her.

He'd watched her talk with Levesque, and then ever so obviously, Greengrass had glanced towards his and Avery's direction, giggling and blushing.

He saw Levesque's eyes widen for a moment and then he knew he had to listen in to what they were saying.

He shut his eyes briefly and cast a non-verbal spell,  
**_  
"God, have you seen Riddle? He's been looking at you the whole while you know, maybe he likes you?"_**

**_Laughter. "Are you kidding? If I didn't know any better, I'd say he swung the other way."_**

... Swung the other way? Was she implying that he was...

_How preposterous!_

This was just... ridiculous.

The girl barely knew him, and here she was, laughing at him for something that wasn't even true. Riddle hated many types of people - traitors, idiots, Mudbloods, but the people that were on the bottom of the list were those that did not pay him the respect he so very well deserved. He was brilliant, and he should be _recognized _for it.

This girl had the decency to laugh at him when no one would so much as ever talk about him in ill manner. If people ever talked about him, it was because he was _bright._ Not because he was... worth laughing at.

His hand grabbed the fork so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"Riddle," someone muttered, "is something the matter?"

It was Avery. Riddle liked that boy, he spoke without fear, he didn't hesitate, and he did not stutter.

Riddle eyed him, "No. Why would you think so, Avery?"

"Just the way you look," Avery said.

A faint smile traced Riddle's lips, "Your concern is much appreciated," he whispered, "but nothing's the matter."

Avery faked a smile.

* * *

Arithmancy was _sort of alright._

Hermione never had to compete for attention in class, yet now she did, because of one Tom Riddle that not only seemed to know everything, but was able to raise his hand at twice the speed that she could. _Damn him. _Hermione now knew what her friends must have felt like throughout her schooling career.

Arithmancy was with the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, and Hermione had really wanted to sit next to a Hufflepuff, though most looked absolutely terrified of her.

Hermione sighed, and took an empty seat at the front of the class. She felt someone sit next to her, with a quick glance, she determined it was Lestrange.

"Lestrange," she acknowledged.

"'Morning, gorgeous," he purred.

Hermione didn't respond.

Lestrange did not let that bother him, and continued trying to flirt with her throughout the entire lesson, at one point, he even tried to slide his hand up her skirt, but then Hermione had cast a Burning Charm on herself to prevent him from touching her.

Besides this and Riddle's constant, perfect answer-giving, Arithmancy was sort of alright.

* * *

Riddle had taken a seat next to Avery behind Lestrange and that new girl in Arithmancy; merely for observational purposes, he'd told himself.

He concluded that the girl was incredibly smart, if not for him; she'd have probably answered every question that was thrown their way.

About half way through the lesson, something happened that Riddle found he _really _did not like - Lestrange was _touching _her.

_What is he doing?_ Riddle frowned, yes, he had told him to get information from her, but was he really going to do it _this _way?

_Foul creature. What makes him think she'll fall for it like every other girl?_

A part of him inwardly nodded his approval upon watching the girl cast a charm on herself, so the next time Lestrange tried to touch her, he yelped and pulled his hand away as if burned.

Riddle chuckled privately; this was interesting.

* * *

Hermione dreaded the next lesson entirely, for firstly: it was just Slytherins in this class, and secondly: she was partnered with Tom Riddle because her annoying Professor (who reminded her very strongly of Trelawny) thought it beneficial for her to learn "from the best."

And so she was sat next to Riddle at the back of the class and she could swear she could feel his intention to kill her radiating off of his body.

This lesson wasn't a practical one; thank whichever deity was looking down on her right now, for Hermione really did not want to have to 'defend' herself against Riddle and his 'dark arts.'

Their Professor kept babbling on about how to cast a Patronus charm, when to cast it, why to cast and what to do when done casting it.

_They learn this in 7th year? _Hermione mentally scoffed_; Maybe they felt it unnecessary to learn it any earlier when the times are so 'peaceful' right now.  
_  
Then, quietly, Riddle spoke to her, his voice steady, "Didn't think you'd find this difficult, Miss Levesque,"

Hermione snapped out of her trance and glared at him, "Pardon me? Who said I found this difficult?"

"You look a bit tense," he said, "that's all,"

Hermione ignored him, wanting nothing more than to focus on her lesson.

Riddle did not like being ignored. He leaned closer to her ear, and Hermione suppressed the urge to hex him right then and there, "Perhaps," his breath tickled her ear, "you're tense because of me?"

Hermione turned to him so fast her hair nearly hit his face.

"What makes you think _that?_"

"You're not hexing me like you did Lestrange," he stated simply.

"I have no reason to hex you," she said, turning her attention away from him, _"yet,"_ she muttered under her breath.

_What is wrong with this girl?_ Thought Riddle, _Perhaps, she's the one that 'swings the other way.' Resisting Lestrange is understandable; the boy lacks those romantic qualities girls tend to look for. What does she have against me?  
_  
Riddle turned to look at her, despite the fact that she was not looking at him, and breathed in her ear,

"Would you like it if I..." and then he trailed off, knowing very well her curiosity would get the better of her.

She waited. Then, exasperatedly, she snapped, "If you _what?_"

Riddle smiled to himself; it wasn't a genuine smile, it was a triumphant smile, one that was lopsided and half-hearted and yet absolutely stunn-

Hermione sighed loudly, and looked back at her books, knowing that he wasn't going to answer and that this conversation was over.

They continued the rest of the lesson in silence.

* * *

Later that evening, Hermione dropped by to check on Abraxas, who was yet to waken - much to Hermione's dismay.

She wasn't tired, nor did she really have much homework to do, so she figured she'd head to the library since she really did not want to spend the rest of her afternoon with those pompous Slytherins.

Though, she figured she should at least drop by her dorm to freshen up a bit. Making her way into the dungeons, Hermione noted that Riddle and his gang were not present.. Were they up to something?

Sighing, yet deciding to ignore her Gryffindor courage, she made her way up to her dorm, opened the door, peered inside and screamed,

Someone growled, "_Fuck!"_

"_Dear Godric, does the word privacy-"_

"_-no need to scream like-"_

"_-even have a meaning to you, you-_

"_-there's no tomorrow, fuck, Granger-_

"_-UGH!"_

A pause. A sigh.

"What do you w_ant_, Malfoy_?_" Hermione sighed again, slumped down on her bed and ran her fingers through her hair.

"I don't w_ant _anything," said Draco, leaning on the window opposite her bed, "Just here to give you some books you could read,"

Hermione stared at him, baffled. "Books?"

"Did I bloody stutter? Yes, _books, _Granger. They should help you remember… things… it's the best I can do to help until Abraxas gets out of the infirmary,"

Hermione felt dizzy. "Yeah," she whispered, "Okay. I- thanks, Malfoy," she sighed. "How's everyone?"

Draco didn't respond.

"Malfoy?" she pressed.

When he didn't answer for the second time, Hermione grabbed him by the shirt and breathed, tears in her eyes, "Mal…foy…?"

Draco rolled his eyes, and pushed her off of him onto the bed. He leaned in closer to her face and smirked, "Granger," he said, his breath on her face, "stop worrying your pretty little ass. They're all bloody fine," he leaned back, "I just don't think it's good if you keep thinking about the past- future? Whatever, don't think about it. It's not good, Granger."

Hermione said nothing but nodded, and then, "Draco, how are you able to use a Timeturner to come back so many years like this?"

But he was already gone.

She sighed and looked to her left. Two books were there, one was titled 'Wands: Connecting You and I.' The other was titled '10 Most Dangerous Potions You've Never Heard Of.'

Both were written by Abraxas Malfoy.

* * *

"_Crucio."_

Painpainpainsososososomuchpain. Voices in the background - unintelligible.

"-Master, I don't think he was-"

"-disobeying me, Rosier?"

"-n-no, Master-"

"-watch it-end up like him-"

"Where's Black?"

Emperius did not understand these voices, did not care what they were saying. He just wanted to die.

"-he's excused-" Riddle, that was Riddle's voice. Why was Black excused and why was he not?

Lestrange screamed.

Then it stopped.

"Pathetic," came Riddle's sly voice, "You do know why I did that, don't you, Emperius?"

"I-yes, Master," Lestrange choked. Rosier and Avery helped him up.

"Tell me," said Riddle, his voice edging closer as he playfully twiddled his wand in his hand, a ghostly smile appearing on his lips, "what you did wrong?"

"I-" despite the situation, Lestrange felt his face heat up in embarrassment at the thought, "was flirting with that girl. And despite the fact that she-" Lestrange shut his eyes. This was too much.

"That she _what, _Emperius?" Riddle growled into his ear.

"That she- rejected my advances, I still, I- Master, does not want me to scare her off right away- you think I went about this the," Lestrange wanted to kill himself, "the wrong way," he finished lamely.

"Well, then," Riddle sat back in his arm chair, legs and arms spread, eyeing his followers degradingly, "I trust you will act more _efficiently, _next time. Won't you, Emperius?"

"Yes, Master."

"We don't want to scare her off now, do we?"

"No, Master."

Then, Avery spoke. Avery was the strong one, the one that Riddle thought of as nearly an equal.

"Master," said Avery, and everyone tensed, "Why not you go about," he paused, not knowing how to phrase this, "extracting information from her yourself? Surely, it would be best that way?"

Riddle smirked, "Are you suggesting I don't know what's best, Christopher?"

Avery flinched at the use of his first name; he didn't like it when he used it. He didn't like it when a_nyone _used it. It was Avery or nothing.

"No, Master, I was just-"

Riddle paused, laughed suddenly, and everyone looked absolutely frightened.

"I know what you meant," said Riddle, "I'm no fool."

"Of course not,"

"I just don't have the time for such trivial matters,"

"Yes, surely,"

"Right, Avery?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then it is settled. Lestrange, you will continue with your advances until I say otherwise, is that clear?"

Lestrange did not stutter this time. _Good_, thought Riddle.

"Yes, Master," he'd said.

Riddle stood, "You are all dismissed."

* * *

Hermione felt alone in her dormitory, and she really did not want to sit with the Slytherins in the Common room. Amanda wasn't there, so it wasn't like she'd have anyone remotely nice to speak to, so she grabbed the books Malfoy left, muttered a quick spell to disguise the covers and headed off for the library.

Just before entering the library, she heard a sound.

Hermione paused, wand at the ready. _What was that?_ She knew she was just too paranoid, but she _did _have the right to be after all that she's been through.

"_Oh, Merlin-"_

_A chuckle. "Shh, don't want anyone to find us now, do we?"_

What the hell.

Hermione stalked forward, turned left and paused, heart hammering against her ribcage. _Oh my god._

It was Amanda! With Riddle! And they were—his lips on her neck, her back arched into him, her _moans—_

Hermione knew that she should just turn around and walk away, but she couldn't. She couldn't stop looking.

Then, he spoke in the most tantalizing voice she'd ever heard, "Enjoying the show, Levesque?"

Her face brightened and she backed away from the scene, "You're _disgusting, _Riddle."

A small frown caressed his otherwise perfect features, "Disgusting? Now, how is this disgusting? Showing someone affection is now _disgusting?_"

Hermione wanted to punch him. _Affection, my ass. He's just playing her!  
_

"He's just playing you!" snapped Hermione, face turned to Amanda in a fury. How could the girl be so blind to his antics?

Something flashed across Riddle's eyes, but it was gone in a moment. How could she possibly know he was _playing_ her? His reputation was impeccable. When he used girls, he made sure no one knew about it. He made sure that girls remembered the _wonderful experience _not the torturous aftermath.

First, this Levesque girl insinuates he was homosexual. And when he does something that clearly goes against that belief, she suggests him a man-whore. Why is she like this? What does she have against him?

Worse of all, looking at her like this, he realized that he _liked _the look of pure fury on her face. It was quite alluring, if he was honest.

He leaned in closer to Amanda and whispered something in ear, she giggled and walked off, after she was about a few meters away, Riddle muttered a spell under his breath, without using a wand, and Amanda stopped dead in her tracks.

She looked around, confused.

Then walked off like nothing had happened.

Hermione stared at him in shock, "What the hell did you _do_?!"

A teasing smile played across his lips, "I gave her the best 10 minutes of her life," he said, eyes gleaming, "do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes, I bloody do," she snapped, "what did you just tell her!? And what spell did you put on her?"

Riddle chuckled lowly, "I _told _her to wait for me in my room,"

Hermione gasped a little.

"Then, I _Obliviated _her."

"Riddle—you-you're-" she was so infuriated; she found she could not speak.

Riddle liked that – a lot.

He edged closer to her, forcing her back against the wall. Hermione jumped slightly when his left palm slammed on the wall next to her head.

"I'm what, _Hermione?" _he whispered, playfully rolling her name off of his tongue like it meant the world to him.

Hermione felt faint, he was so, so _good _at this mind game.

"_You're disgusting," _she hissed, and suddenly, his other hand was by her head, trapping her in between.

She had angered him, she knew she had, his eyes were no longer calm. They were dark, menacing. He leaned in until his mouth was barely touching her ear.

Hermione's breathing quickened.

"First, you say I _swing the other way_, then you call me a player, and now you call me _disgusting," _he hissed and Hermione's heart skipped a beat. _How did he manage to listen in?_

"Get a_way _from me," she retorted fiercely.

Riddle chuckled, then he spoke, his voice a deep, husky growl,

"_Make me."_

He lifted a finger and wrapped a curl around it, twirling it in his hands, then he backed off slowly, enjoying every emotion that flashed across her face.

Shock. Anger. Annoyance. _Ah, there it is, _Riddle thought, _embarrassment. She is still a girl after all, and I _will _get through to her._

But as she began backing off from the wall, she stood near him, and said quietly, _"Sod off, Riddle. I'm not like the rest."_

He smiled faintly to himself as she walked past; yes, he knew that. He knew that all too well.

"Hermione," he said, ignoring the glare she gave him at the use of her first name.

"Wha—ah-" before she could respond, he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush up against him, "What if…" he whispered, and Hermione realized that he was about to tell her what he'd wanted to say back in there Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

"What if," he repeated, his breath tickling her ear, "I gave you a _reason_ to hex me?" At the mention of the word _reason, _Hermione felt his hand trail down to her waist.

She flinched back at the contact, breathing heavily. "Like I said," she managed to snap, "you're _disgusting._"

And then she was gone.

* * *

**Guys thank you all soooo much for the reviews and follows and favorites! Please give me your opinions :) I hope it's all going well so far. If they're out of character do tell me, i really want them to be as realistic as possible.**

**Thank you all! And please keep reviewing, I dont write this story for myself now, do i! :') **

**Love you all. **


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